Melange Post

The house project has helped me shed 6 lbs.  Ideally, I would like to lose 13 more.  I need to load up the mountain bike and take it down there to beef up cardiovascular stuff.  There are some great dirt roads to ride that would be a perfect workout.  As most of my worklife has been supported by my backsides (that isn't quite sounding right--read sitting), being on my feet for many hours has been taking its toll.  I'm always glad to get home and put my feet up.  Though my feet are aching, I am loving the way my arms and shoulders feel. The many trips up and down the small step stool and the stairs are yielding good lower body results.

New Kent does not have many roads going through it.  Interstate 64, 249 and 60 are the mainway ways to traverse the county N/S and E/W.  Though I have lived here most of my adult life, I have a surprisingly (embarrassingly) limited knowlege of the roads.  On Saturday, while foraging for various supplies, Mark alerted me that 249 and 64 were very backed up.  He suggested that I take 60 and then meander through the backroads.  "It is just two lefts and that will take you to Stage Road, " he assured me.


Two lefts later, I am going down a backroad that I was sure that I've never been on before.  The road did not appear to be much wider than a private drive, and I was at one point wondering if I was not venturing onto someone's land.  Surely the next turn in the road would yield some clue as to where I was or some recognizable intersection.  Several turns in the road proffered zip.  I call husbando.

"I don't know where I am.  I took two lefts, and I think that I'm heading back toward Windsor Shades."

He helpfully states that he does not know where I am.  "What do you see?"


He deduces that I must be on a now-paved, former dirt road that we have ridden our bikes on previously.  10 years ago previously.

I am not very good at video games because I never know where I am in the geography of the video.  I immensely dislike not knowing where I am (though I intrepidly drive anywhere).  It is just that if I get lost, I'm not very good about finding my way back.  That is simply directionally challenged, and I feel no shame in that.  Nevertheless, I am discomfited (why does this word only have one "t"?)  when I'm lost.  Being turned about is unsettling.  My husband is kind to stay on the phone as I travel deeper into this wilderness  "Oh, there is a cul de sac!"  I might has well have found a statue of gold I was so excited.

A mere 10 feet of dirt separated me from civilization.  "You are on the back side of Brickshire.  Can you drive across?"  Drive across I do.  I still don't know which way I'm supposed to be going once the cul de sac meets the road.  My I find my way out.  The nice thing about shortcuts is that they are rarely shortcuts.  By the time you find your way out of them, you end up on the stretch of road you were trying to avoid.  Either you are so grateful to find that place that you don't mind the inconvenience, or you have been lost so long that whatever travel snafu had occurred, it has since cleared.  The latter was the case, though the former would have been true as well.

This was not my first time lost in New Kent.  The last time I took a shortcut, my son had to talk me in.  The roads do not always lead where you think.  A metaphor for life.

I have seen more turkey in the last week than I have seen in a lifetime--both near the house and in a field on 249 where I saw about 50.  Never have I seen such a sight.  If you have never seen a wild turkey before, you will puzzle a moment at the sight.  There is also a nearby field on 249 that I have been looking to for a couple of herds of deer that begin eating just as daylight wanes.  They are quiet now, but soon they will be moving, and that is a time for extra vigilance while driving.

On several occasions while arriving and departing  the property, I have notice rabbits in the dirt road.  Seemingly, they are eating the dirt.  There is nothing to eat in the road, but they have their mouths to the ground.  They are so intent on whatever it is, that they do not move until the vehicle is right up on them.  I stopped to look at the ground, but I could not find anything but curiously overturned pieces of gravel.  I'm not sure if that was from their inexplicable activity or just from road travel.  Anyway, it is a curiosity to me.

Both bedrooms are painted at the house except for a final coat of trim paint and the closets.  Our color choices are just fantastic.  For the Pottery Barn's Woodland Organic collection, we used Benjamin Moore's Riviera Azure with Chantilly Lace trim.

I would put another sample up for the other room, but I don't know where it is.  It is a fabric with so many muted greys, greens and taupes that choosing colors was difficult at best.  We settled on Balboa Mist (with Chantilly Lace).  To say that it was an exquisite choice would be an understatement (same with above).  I'm not usually given over to self-congratulatory hyperbole, but it fits with this choice.

With my 1000W work lights, I found and sanded out all of the junk that I found in the paint.  I believe that someone engaged the shop vac inside while the trim was wet.  I do know that my painting efforts were immeasurable helped by the work lights.  I'll never attempt painting again without such good lights.

All the trim existing trim is caulked.  Hannah finished sanding and priming all of the removed baseboard trim. I will begin with downstairs painting.  Ella (my English Setter) has been an eager companion.  She enjoys riding up there and as she is a couch-potato Setter, I don't worry about her getting away.  She is a good listener and fearful of getting left (which must have happened to her at some point in her life which is how she wound up in the shelter).  She also has a sturdy tag--a must for every dog.  All of the nails are up, so it is a dog-safe environment.

This week will bring good progress....I'm still bummed about the loss of my camera's functionality.


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